Criminal Behavior
by ellerean
Summary: L/B College AU. "Their settled routine was more a lack of routine, a comfortable avoidance. They didn't readily share information. The only thing they could gather from each other was they were both orphans, and they both intentionally arrived to campus late."


A/N: For _sergeantcryptic_ on tumblr, for the DN gift exchange! (ie, prompt was supplied and I am not this creative.)

* * *

Beyond wasn't the only one to arrive on campus by himself. The parentless eyed each other warily during orientation—_orphans_—those who'd stepped into the auditorium without the requisite pair of adults hovering and crying.

_Who needs 'em?_ he thought, aimlessly flipping through his orientation packet.

Most other students had arrived a week prior to move into their dorms, unpacking carloads of belongings into a two hundred–square foot closet. He'd arrived just in time for orientation, but as the university president droned on about "promising young students" he wished he'd gone straight to his room instead.

They'd botched his roommate assignment, of course. The paperwork had said to contact your roommate right away so you could _coordinate_. As if he cared whether they had matching sheets, or whatever that meant. But his roommate's name had only been a letter, and he didn't care enough to contact the school to fix it. His roommate was probably like every other nerd in the auditorium—overeager geniuses, most of which bespectacled, sitting on the edges of their seats as they absorbed every word of the president's speech.

Just his luck, his dorm was on the opposite side of campus. Uphill. He slung his knapsack over his shoulder—his only belongings—and trudged toward the looming building in the distance.

"Room 273," he muttered, climbing the staircase to the dorm. The introductory letter had said his keys would be waiting for him in the room, which would have been fine if his door wasn't closed when he'd arrived.

Beyond knocked. "I hope he's actually in there," he said, staring down the hallway. Already, groups of freshmen were clustered in the hallway with their doors wide open. Room 273 was the only unwelcoming one.

"You in there?" he shouted, pounding on the door again.

"Just a minute," said a soft voice from within.

"You better not be jerk—"

The door flung open wide.

_What the fuck._

He guessed that he and his roommate would've been about the same height, if the guy bothered to stand up straight. He stared at Beyond through a heavy black fringe, chewing the side of his thumb as if deep in thought.

"Beyond," he said. "Welcome."

And that was it. The roommate spun around and shuffled back into the partially-lit room. Beyond hitched up his knapsack and stepped inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

"I was starting to believe you wouldn't show." His roommate perched on his desk chair—literally _perched_, hugging his knees as his toes curled over the wooden seat. He stared at Beyond, as if studying him. Beyond only matched his accusatory expression.

"I was late," he said, deadpan. "Hey, what's your name? My roommate assignment fucked it up."

"No, I don't think it did." He smiled—a wide-toothed, unsettling grin. "I am L."

"That— that's not a name!"

L shrugged and turned to his laptop.

If L hadn't been sitting at a desk, Beyond wouldn't have been able to discern which side of the room he'd claimed. The guy had no belongings. Even his desk was sparse, bearing only a computer and a tin of some sort. (_Are those cookies?_ he thought, mildly interested.) Beyond dropped his knapsack onto the empty desk and stared at the bunk beds.

"Which one's yours?" he asked. L pointed to the bottom, as he'd suspected.

"You travel light," L said, without turning around.

Beyond dumped out the knapsack—a couple changes of clothes; a laptop; orientation paperwork; a packet of Twizzlers. He chewed on a Twizzler as he sat cross-legged on the desktop. "So do you."

L peered over his shoulder. "We'll get along."

Neither had a regular sleep schedule. In the early hours of morning, Beyond was often hidden away on the top bunk with his laptop while L plunked away at his desk. Their settled routine was more a lack of routine, a comfortable avoidance. They didn't readily share information. The only thing they could gather from each other was they were both orphans, and they both intentionally arrived to campus late. Beyond, at least, had made an attempt with orientation, though L later informed him that he shouldn't have bothered—not that Beyond needed _him_ to tell him that.

They only walked to class together because they shared an identical schedule. _Of course this guy is a criminal justice major, too_, Beyond thought, eyeing L as they crossed campus. L seemed to notice everything—from the trajectory of falling leaves to the hushed student disputes on the sidewalks. Occasionally, he would comment on them.

"She didn't spend the night in her own room," L muttered, staring at a girl as they passed.

"Obviously," Beyond replied. Her clothes were rumpled and there was a poorly-concealed hickey on her throat. Her cheeks were flushed and she tried to talk quietly into her cell phone, but her braggart squeals could probably be heard across campus.

"What about him?" L asked, pointing to a guy reading a textbook on a bench.

"High school valedictorian," Beyond replied. "College is harder than he'd thought. Here on a scholarship that he's afraid he'll lose."

"Hmm." L shoved his hands into his pants pockets. "You're just as observant as I thought. How delightful."

Beyond thought that maybe he'd make some friends, but didn't care about any of them the moment he walked into the classroom. Reluctantly, he sat in the back beside his roommate. L didn't pay much attention in class, though he was always scribbling something in his notebook. Sometimes, he would pass notes to Beyond. They were stupid inquiries: _Did you notice how the boy in the front looks away when called on? _Or _I suspect the professor does not own a mirror. That color combination is terrible_.

_I don't care_, Beyond would scribble back, which only encouraged him.

He was reluctant to admit that L was a "friend," but he felt almost _comfortable_ with him. L would wait for him to go to the laundromat, as neither owned enough clothes for a full load. They decided that buying two copies of the same textbooks was a waste, so they split the cost and shared. It wasn't a _friendship_, and they weren't _friendly_, but it was an ideal arrangement.

In short, it was boring.

It didn't take long into the first semester for Beyond to decide criminal justice was dull. Like he would ever be a detective—there was always someone in class the professor favored; someone who had done the homework and kissed enough ass. Not that Beyond was a bad student—he and L were always tied for the top exam scores—but their grades suffered when they skipped homework, when they wouldn't participate in class. Beyond doodled crime scenes in his notebook instead of solving them—homes in disarray and evil grins, daggers dripping with blood. L didn't do _anything_ during class. He sat in the corner desk, notebook open to a blank page, staring aimlessly out the window.

The week before winter break, in the midst of final exams, their criminal behavior professor didn't show for class.

It was the first time Beyond had seen L interested in anything. Another department professor was covering, but no details were provided for her disappearance. "Something came up," everyone said, the same explanation time and time again. L was silent on the walk back to their dorm room that night, staring aimlessly into the sky as he nibbled on an oversized chocolate chip cookie.

"What do you think happened?" Beyond asked.

L peered at him from the corner of his eye. He took one large bite of the cookie, chewing slowly as he refocused on the clouds. "I don't know."

_Bullshit_, Beyond thought, smirking.

"Oh," L said, as they reached their room.

Beyond was starting to resent that _"oh."_ It was always prefaced by something L appeared to be flippant about, but he knew had been carefully calculated. L didn't say anything until Beyond closed the door, until they were both perched at their respective desks.

"It was lonely eating dinner alone last night," L said. "I attempted to call, but you left your phone in the room again."

"You . . . called me?" Beyond never carried his phone; he never received calls. He opened his desk drawer for his phone, flipping it open to review the one missed call and three text messages.

_I am hungry._

_You left your phone here._

_I am going to eat._

L had actually been asleep when Beyond returned to the room—it wasn't late, but it was after dinnertime; the hallway was crowded with chattering freshman and his roommate slept through it, curled beneath his flimsy blanket.

"What, you want me to make up for it? Wanna order a pizza or something?"

"Pizza," L said, carefully considering the offer. "Yes, that would be suitable."

Beyond hadn't remained in the room the previous night. After finding his roommate dead asleep, he'd gone to the library. He'd quickly discovered the library's extensive movie collection, and spent most of the night catching up on thirty year of horror films. He'd brought several back to the room, so when the pizza arrived they camped out on L's bed and watched Texas Chainsaw Massacre—the original—while inhaling Hawaiian pizza. L picked the ham off his slices and left them for Beyond.

"Why are the women in horror films always unintelligent?" L whined.

Beyond laughed as he scooped up a handful of ham pieces. "Because then there'd be no film. Shut up and watch."

The film was nearing its predicable ending when they both received a text message. They stared at each other, curious, before reaching into their pockets for their phones.

"So the truth comes out," Beyond said, reading the text over again. _We regret to inform you that Professor Jones has been found dead_, it read. _More information forthcoming._ "That kind of sucks. I liked her."

He looked at L.

L was already staring back, his sleepless eyes wide and unblinking. As the movie ran into the credits—they had missed its conclusion—Beyond slipped off the bed, walking backward toward the door. "I need a shower," he said, grabbing his toiletry basket as he skipped out.

The hallway was abuzz with the news. Beyond tossed his towel over his head, staring at the floor as he strode to the communal bathroom. The showers were empty and Beyond twisted the knob, waiting for the water to heat up as he stripped.

The hot water pounded against his skin, swirled into the drain at his feet. He closed his eyes and lifted his head, the steady stream of water massaging his skull. He thought nothing of the footsteps entering the shower area until his curtain was pulled back.

"You know something of this, don't you?"

He resisted the urge to yelp and scream at L, instead pushing him out of the way to grab his towel. "Damn it, L," he growled, pulling the towel around his waist. "I'm in the _shower_, for fuck's sake."

"We are roommates. I've seen you nude before."

"That's not the _point_. What do you _want_?"

Beyond hadn't turned off the water—his towel was now soaked, threatening to slip off his hips—but L stepped in, pulling the curtain closed. L had his oddities, and Beyond quickly learned not to question them, but this crossed a line. They stood under the water stream, face to face, glare matching indifferent glare. L narrowed his eyes as he scanned Beyond's naked body, as if searching for . . . _something_. There were no tell-tale signs—his body held the same cuts and bruises as always, a victim of sleep-deprived clumsiness like every other college student. Beyond released the heavy, water-logged towel, listening to it _squish_ against the tile floor.

"I don't know what you want, _L_," he whispered.

L grinned, flipping his wet hair away from his face. "College is more fun that I thought." And he left the shower, sloshing through the bathroom and into the hallway.

Beyond kicked aside the sodden towel. _College _is_ fun,_ he thought with a smirk, grabbing his shampoo bottle.

He resented that a clean, dry towel was hanging on the hook when he got out. It smelled like their room, the dull scent of Pledge and sugar. Beyond twisted out his own towel, but then threw it in the trash. It wasn't worth the trouble.

L was on his laptop in the middle of the floor when he returned, deliberately blocking his path. Beyond stepped over him to sit at his desk, donning only the towel, and opened his own laptop. His inbox was flooded with news and reports—_Professor Jones found dead. Body washed ashore. No suspects._

"This could be fun," Beyond said, turning toward L. "Gives this school thing a bit of a challenge."

"Beyond," L said, his face glowing from the reflection of his monitor. "Where were you schooled before?"

"Nowhere special." He shrugged. "I lived in an orphanage. Public schools. Why?"

L nodded. "So did I. I was provided a private tutor, however. You weren't offered the same?"

He snorted. "Public orphanage. Public school."

L moved so quickly that Beyond could only see a blur of white before he was sitting on his desk, face-to-face. L pushed the laptop aside. "You are here on scholarship."

"Yeah, so?"

L scaled Beyond's body again, and he wished he'd put on some clothes. He wasn't as scrawny as he was when they'd first met, having been filled with repulsive cafeteria food, but he could still feel his ribs as he crossed his arms over his stomach. L looked up, smirking slightly, then leaned closer.

"Let's solve this," he whispered, motioning to the laptop. _Professor Jones found dead. No suspects._

"You sure you wanna do that?" The corner of Beyond's mouth twitched.

Beyond didn't protest when L took the computer into his lap. He sat on the desk beside his roommate as L scrolled through his inbox, scrutinizing each email regarding the supposed murder.

"How about this," Beyond said, leaning closer. "Let's head down to the river. Maybe the guy left some clues."

* * *

Beyond wasn't surprised that L had figured it out. He had figured it out weeks prior, the moment the news of her death had become public. But the authorities had found nothing. The school had found nothing. The only piece of evidence lay concealed in room 273, hidden beneath the immaculately-folded shirts in L's dresser.

Beyond knew that he would find it, too, before the police did. If they ever _would_. L knew where to look, because it wasn't any old murder—by the time they had found Professor Jones's body, it had been bloated from the week spend submerged in the river. No one would have considered the body had been drained of blood; no one would have thought the scrap of a textbook page at the riverbank unusual. They also wouldn't have thought to look for anything in the knot of a tree; even L needed a little help finding that one.

When they returned to the room, L made a beeline for their shared criminal behavior textbook, flipping to page 313. There was no page number on the blood-splattered scrap, and despite neither of them having actually read the text he still _knew_.

There _was_ no page 313. He turned to page 312, page 315. L nodded, closing the book before hiding the scrap in his drawer.

"What are you gonna do?" Beyond asked, mostly curious, the lilt of challenge in his voice.

"There is not enough evidence for an arrest," L answered. "It is as the authorities say: This is an unsolvable case."

Beyond grinned and flounced onto L's bed, patting the mattress beside him. "Guess we're stuck with each other for a while."

L gingerly sat on the bed, and like a normal human being for once—feet on the floor, hands spread on his thighs. "There are worse fates."

"Wanna watch a movie?"

Beyond wasn't subtle about watching L more than the flickering screen. L noticed, too, as he hid in the shadow of the bottom bunk. Beyond lay down, fluffing a pillow in L's lap to rest his head on. He closed his eyes, enraptured when L's fingers began to comb his hair. _Well_, he thought, snuggling into his pillow_, this college thing just got a lot more interesting._


End file.
